Enough Now
by Cazzy20
Summary: A man walks the murky streets of London. Who is He? What is he doing? Third placed entry in the Better in Texas Fiction Something Wicked Contest.


**My third placed entry in the Better in Texas Fiction Something Wicked Contest.**

 **All publicly recognisable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

 **Enough Now**

The misty covered moon offered no light on the dimly lit street. The darkness was oppressive and the air was still, almost holding its breath in anticipation. The night was his friend as he slinked through the shadows searching for his goal. Heavily disguised he wasn't too concerned about being seen, but it pleased him to hide. It was his usual practice to wear a disguise and on each occasion he chose a different one. That night he had chosen the guise of a well-to-do banker or businessman, his usually immaculate blonde hair was covered by a dark wig and his customarily flamboyant clothes were replaced with a charcoal grey suit that blended into his surroundings and a black woollen overcoat. He was wearing a dark moustache and hat to obscure his handsome features, both wig and moustache where made from the hair of a previous study subject. To finish the look he had used stage makeup to hide his true identity making him look older and swarthy skinned.

The November night was cold and his breath visible as it plumed like cigarette smoke against the stark backdrop of the London street. The dank alley stunk with the filth of the city, the waste from the humans and animals which abided in the area, rotting food, stale alcohol as well as the stench from the nearby, debris clotted, river drifted ever toward him as he walked slowly past a small church yard, filled with crumbling headstones, in the ever increasing gloom.

The church was like an old friend, he had passed it many times on his quest for knowledge. It silently watched his progress and grimly applauded his efforts as he roamed the familiar streets searching for the answers he desperately needed. That night however, he was fond of it for a different reason, it was very near where he had left his previous scholarly subject.

That night had been wonderful for him so much so that even now, these two months later, he could not help but smile at the memory. It had begun as all of the others had. He had been walking the familiar dreary London streets in search of a new subject. He had encountered his first fairly early but had been unable to complete his study as he was interrupted by a Peeler passing too close to where he was working in the shadows. It wouldn't do at all to be interrupted so he had left that subject in the yard where he found it - unexamined. He skulked silently away frustrated and angry, but determined that the night would not be a waste.

Recollecting the memory of his frustration he now chuckled, it was ironic really that something which had begun so badly had ended so well. Retracing his steps that night he had encountered his second subject not much later. He remembered with fondness the black bonnet with a green and black skirt. It was the same as all the others though, the type he always chose.

A lady of the night, a prostitute.

A whore!

They were loathsome creatures in his eyes.

Leading men into sin and deprivation.

They were not people.

They were the ones that did not matter.

The ones no one would miss.

They did not count against his vow of never taking a life so he was free to use them as a tool to enhance his anatomical knowledge. He wanted to practice medicine but could never go through the usual channels to achieve this goal so he had devised his own way.

And his way was extraordinary.

He was learning so much.

He would do great things in the future of that he was sure.

The subject he found had given him so much pleasure. He had been able to take his time and study it fully and extensively. Especially the facial structure, digestive system and reproductive system, something which had always fascinated him. He had kept keepsakes on this occasion to study later, one of the kidneys and most of the uterus. It had been the most fascinating evening, such a wonderful experience that he felt he just had to mark it. In the end he had been so buoyed up by his achievement he had felt as though walking on air.

He knew the authorities did not understand his quest or motives; they called him a killer, a murderer, a monster. Those titles did not fit someone of his talent and noble intentions. He was a pioneer, a visionary. But he knew he had to stay incognito, at least for the moment so he did not protest. The police had attributed four others to him, their naivety made him laugh.

"If only they knew the truth." He had thought yet again. "They would be amazed."

Remembering that night, he had been so happy, so filled with his own worth that he had written to the Central News Agency as soon as he returned to his lodgings. Disguising his intellect and true motives, he had just _had_ to impart his news. He often lamented the lack of someone, anyone who could applaud his vision. The regret he frequently felt at having no partner, no mate to converse with, to share his thoughts and feelings, his fears and doubts sometimes made him question himself. However disbelief and weakness he could not allow. A companion would come later he vowed, when time and opportunity presented themselves.

He was aware that others wrote letters to, pretending to be him but he didn't mind. They could only wish for his ability and drive. Perhaps in the future he would reveal himself and denounce the fakes but for now he kept his own council.

He was startled from his reminiscences by the discovery of his newest subject. He was determined that he would gain a prize even greater than before and the female before him was perfect for his needs. She was fairly tall, close to his height, with blonde, uncovered hair and blue eyes. She looked to be fairly young, mid-twenties he suspected and he supposed she could be considered attractive for _her_ kind. She was not drunk either and she was clean, both of which he considered a benefit.

He charmed her easily and persuaded her to take him back to her rooms. He wanted privacy and time that evening. He wanted to savour every moment. She chatted and flirted all the way but he paid little attention to her, he was not interested in her for her wit although he admitted she did possess some. Upon ushering him into her rooms he locked the door quietly and turned to see her undressing slowly and folding her clothes neatly in the corner, leaving her standing in only her chemise. She was still talking and smiling warmly as she lay down on the bed and held out her hand towards him in encouragement. He looked at her as she lay before him, offering herself to him in the most intimate and primitive of ways. Her actions caused strange sensations to rise within him, a longing to join her in that expected act, a lust to feel the release he had denied himself so long and a strange stirring of sympathy for the fact she would soon be no more.

Shocked by his own reaction he knew he had to act quickly to squash all thoughts of humanity in her and himself. Before she had time to notice the movement he had slit her throat with the knife he had concealed in his sleeve. He watched in absorbed fascination as the shock and realisation of his actions registered in her face. She tried to speak but was unable to, as the cut had passed through her larynx. The blood from her artery jetted across the wall in several long spurts keeping time with her slowing heartbeat. He watched the morbid but beautiful tableaux as he created his very own artistic masterpiece. He wondered briefly if the great impressionists did the same, did they too step back and marvel at their painting as it developed before them.

Removing his coat and stepping towards the bed he glanced at her face, which still bore the expression of shock he had seen before but it was mixed with what he took to be a look of accusation and distain. The eyes were still open, staring unseeingly at him. They held his stare as though she wanted to trap him, to see into his very soul, to punish him for his actions. He struggled to unlock their gaze. He found himself shaking slightly as the lifeless orbs continued their silent reprimand.

Suddenly he was enraged. How dare this creature look at him is such a way? How dare she criticise him!

Him!

She was helping him further his knowledge; she should be glad, proud.

Not accusing.

Not making him feel guilty.

She had no rights.

She had no reason.

She did not understand.

She _could_ not understand.

He launched himself across the room in a whirl of furious movement. He hacked and slashed viciously at the accusing face of the dead girl. He tore at her in his determination to remove all traces of her distain. By the time he was finished the nose, eyebrows, cheeks and ears were all partially removed. Her face was cut in all directions and the once pretty visage he had chosen was almost completely unrecognisable.

Looking down at his handiwork he smiled. He had not only hacked at the face but also her arms and torso as well. He was now covered in blood, usually he was careful when he worked, ensuring that he was not tainted in any way by his subject. But this time he had been careless. He let out a small childlike giggle; one similar to the sound a child makes when they are dirty and happy and know it to be naughty.

Bending forward to examine the neck wound he realised wryly he had once again not checked his strength. The subject's throat was slit down to the bone. He would have to learn to be more careful in future. He had never yet been able to study a larynx properly.

Smiling to himself he set about his study. He wanted to examine almost every part of this one. He had begun by carefully removing the skin from the abdomen and thighs, enabling him to delve inside without obstruction and placed it on the table that he then moved into the middle of the room. By the time he was finished the abdominal cavity was virtually empty with the viscera scattered all over. He had decided to complete his artistic masterpiece as well as his study so he strategically positioned the organs in various different places. He had removed the breasts to get a better look at their internal workings and eventually placed one beneath the head along with the uterus and kidneys. The other breast he placed by the right foot while he put the liver between the feet. The legs he had spread widely and he placed the arms carefully in what he determined to be a restful pose. All in all he was delighted with his handiwork and clapped and giggled as he looked over the finished product.

So engrossed had he been that he had failed to notice the three dark cloaked creatures slipping into the room behind him. The locked door was no problem for them as they melted out of the shadows and towards the bed. The first he knew was when he felt a firm hand clamp down on his shoulder causing him to jump slightly.

"Well, well, well. You have made a mess haven't you?"

Turning to face the intruders he smiled when he recognised his friend.

"It's been a long time."

"Yes it has. You have been busy here I see." The handsome stranger replied, his face stern and his eyes flashing with barely contained anger.

Turning to the third member of his party he issued instructions.

"Please ensure we are not disturbed."

The smaller, younger figure simply nodded and exited the room as silently as he had entered.

"Yet again it seems I have to come and clean up your mistakes." He continued angrily turning to the blood covered fool before him. "Why? Why do you do this?"

He was exasperated with his friends' continual foolishness and tired of the criticisms which were incessantly sent in his direction by his brothers. They felt he foolishly indulged his friend and allowed him to take stupid unnecessary risks.

He was beginning to agree with them. Especially after the news had reached them recently of four brutal murders in the borough of Whitechapel, London. All were believed to be perpetrated by the same individual, someone who potentially had medical knowledge and who seemed to simply vanish into the mist after committing his atrocities.

"I needed to learn. I couldn't go to medical school, my differences would be noticed. This is the only way I can learn about anatomy." The formally delighted, self-proclaimed artist replied in a sullen voice. He was going to get told off and he didn't like it.

"Enough now!" The newcomer ordered. "This will cease at once! You will return to your lodgings and clean yourself up." He continued with a stern expression which would brook no argument. While his remaining companion, still holding firmly to his shoulder, nodded in agreement. "You will leave London immediately, you will be escorted to America where you will settle down, practice medicine if you must, but no more of this." He swept his arm outwards in a disdainful arc.

"You will be watched. If you _ever_ do _anything_ like this again I will destroy you myself. Do I make myself clear?"

The seated one simply nodded and looked sulky. But it wasn't enough for the handsome stranger. He grabbed the sulky fools chin and forced the other male to look him in the eye. He was determined to be obeyed, to make it clear what the consequences would be.

"You have abused my friendship long enough." He said with finality. "You will do as you are told or

You.

Will.

Die."

"Do you understand?"

"It is _over_ Carlisle. It ends tonight."

Carlisle Cullen dropped his head in defeat as his dreams evaporated before him as quickly as the blood was congealing around his feet.

"Yes Aro. I understand."


End file.
